


Purple

by SabbyWrites



Series: with a little help from my friends [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyWrites/pseuds/SabbyWrites
Summary: "Keith isn’t really sure when it all started, just that he knows it’s happening and there’s nothing he can do to stop it."In which Keith reaps the benefits of Lance's spontaneity.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peredhils](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peredhils/gifts).



> For Jacqueline, who deserves all the Klance porn in the world (and certainly something much better than this disaster of a fic). 
> 
> Love always, Sab.

Keith isn’t really sure when it all started, just that he knows it’s happening and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. 

Objectively speaking, the glide of Lance’s fingers on his arm _can_ be stopped, but Keith can think of nothing more that he wants than for Lance to keep going. His heart pounds so hard that he’s certain it’s trying to fling itself out of his throat so it can flop uselessly on the floor at Lance’s feet, like some sort of offering that he can’t make with words. 

The edge of Lance’s mouth curls upwards and Keith is sure his face is as red as his lion. He wants to avert his eyes but he can’t, not when Lance has him trapped in such a beautiful stare. A question floats between them. 

“I’ve never,” Keith says, aware of how his voice breaks a little at the tail end of his words. 

“Never what?”

“Done something like this.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” His gaze is probing, searching for a hint of discomfort. 

Had he been thinking more clearly, Keith might have been embarrassed at how fast the word _no_ leaves his mouth. To Lance’s credit, he doesn’t poke fun at him for it. He merely moves closer, the hand on Keith’s hip once more coming to life now that he knows that the red paladin isn’t opposed.The way his long fingers drag above the waist of Keith’s pants makes the air stutter in his lungs. He suddenly wants to pull Lance even closer, to grab the space between them with his hands and crush it into powder. He can’t count on both hands the number of months that he’s spent fantasizing about the way Lance’s skin would feel sliding against his own, with his mouth hot on his neck and a hand between his thighs. He swallows hard, and Lance mistakes it for trepidation. 

“Don’t worry,” he coos. “I’ll take care of you.”

Keith nods, because he can’t do much else. He’s used to the fire coursing through his veins, the sheer determination that makes him the red paladin; but when it’s working against him like this, he can barely think straight. His thoughts are a blur of reactions— _scold Lance, back away, smash your lips against his_ — and he can barely comprehend the sheer amount of things that his heart and his mind are telling him to do. His tongue licks his dry bottom lip and it catches Lance’s eye. His pupils shrink just the smallest amount; if Keith hadn’t been so focused on them, he wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Can I kiss you?” Lance’s voice barely conceals his anticipation. 

A muscle in Keith’s jaw twitches as he breathes out a ragged yes, and then Lance is on him, over him, and he’s inhaling the smell of fresh linen and chapstick and _Lance_. The hand on his arm moves to cup his chin and Keith doesn’t put up a single fight when Lance’s tongue presses past the crease of his lips. He tastes like something sweet, something that Keith could have on his lips over and over again and never get tired of. Keith’s hands curl into Lance’s shirt as some sort of anchor, because it’s practically impossible for the two of them to get any closer than they are. 

Lance’s hand slides downward, between Keith’s legs, and Keith can hear his blood pound in his ears when Lance groans into his mouth. Keith subconsciously ruts slowly against his hand, sighing in relief for the friction his palm supplies him. Lance seems to take pleasure in his response, if the way he presses back against his cock is anything to go by, coaxing Keith into breathlessness. They separate, a string of saliva connecting their mouths that neither of them break, too busy wrapping their minds around the feeling of each other.

Lance is seeking something out that he apparently finds in the rapid rise and fall of Keith’s chest.

“Keith,” he says, the vowels stretched like a rubber band, reminding Keith of how close he is to snapping. His thoughts are like a bucket of spilled marbles, rolling around his brain and knocking into each other with shrill clicks. Lance has eyes that remind him of stars. So bright, so vivid and dangerously hot, and they’re zeroed in on the expression Keith forms as his hand curls around what it can of his cock, inhibited by denim and cotton but still stimulating nonetheless. 

“Can I touch you?” 

Keith tilts his head back, letting the crown of his head rest against the wall. That’s all the answer Lance needs, apparently, because his fingers go from curled around Keith’s length to the button of his pants, sliding it through the hole with an ease that nearly makes Keith falter. 

_Has he done this before?_ White-hot jealousy streaks through him as he remembers how popular Lance was back in school—

Keith’s can’t help but freeze as Lance starts to push his pants down, kneeling along with them. His fingers barely skim against the muscle of Keith’s thighs but it’s a promising touch, one that forces Keith to bite down softly on his bottom lip, trapping a groan in his mouth. 

“Wow,” Lance says. One of his hands lights a burning path up the inside of Keith’s left thigh, appraising the roll of muscle there. “You could crush my head with your thighs, dude.” 

Keith snorts. Lance’s mouth slides into a lopsided smile. 

“I mean it,” he continues, his hand tugging playfully at the bottom of Keith’s boxers.“And you’re a boxers guy, too. I thought for sure you wore tighty whities.” 

Keith scowls down at him. 

“Why, so we could be twins?” It’s the best insult that he can come up with when Lance is eyeing the tent in his underwear like that. 

“Who even says I’m wearing underwear to begin with?” Lance says it as nonchalantly as someone might when telling you the time. If he hears the groan bubbling in Keith’s throat, he doesn’t comment on it. 

Instead, he focuses on hooking two of his long fingers around the elastic of Keith’s boxers, dragging them down, down, down—

And for the first time since all of this started, Lance freezes. 

“What?” Keith uses a biting tone to hide both his nervousness and the little pinpricks of jealousy that remain in his mind, wanting to meet Lance’s eyes but not being able to. Lance doesn’t answer immediately; at least, not with words. His slender fingers wrap around Keith’s shaft slowly. They’re a little cold but it feels nice, and the shiver that seems to rattle every vertebrae in Keith’s spine confirms that for the blue paladin. 

“I was expecting it to be purple.” Lance says. Keith raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Really?”

“No.” Lance snorts. “Wish I would have known you were this big before, though. Would have made a move a lot sooner.” 

_A lot sooner._ The words bounce around in Keith’s head and the wheels start to turn like rolls of film, every sideways glance and questionable comment that Lance has ever made replaying behind his eyelids like a movie. Had he really been that oblivious? He’d always brushed Pidge off when she mentioned the tension between them, figuring that she was just teasing, but this… this is most certainly not a figment of Pidge’s imagination. 

“I wish you had,” he breathes. Lance twists his hand slowly, slowly, his thumb skimming the tip of Lance’s cock and his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip again. There’s a little hitch in his breath and Keith knows almost exactly what’s going to happen before it does; Lance’s tongue darts out again and then it’s pressed against the underside of his shaft, following a vein slowly, leisurely, to the tip and then back down. 

“Yeah?” 

Lance pulls back for a second to look Keith in the eyes and it knocks the air right out of him, seeing those beautiful blue eyes through his downcast eyelashes. Lance on his knees is one of the prettiest pictures that Keith has ever seen, and it strikes him that it’s far superior to anything his imagination conjured up during his late nights alone. The warmth, the softness of Lance is so unbelievably real that it makes Keith feel like every nerve ending in his body is on fire, wriggling around underneath his skin and making a little bit of perspiration gather on the back of his neck. Lance’s free hand sneaks up to cradle Keith’s balls in his hand and he can’t help the involuntary twitch of his thigh when he does. 

His hands scrabble for purchase against the wall when Lance descends on his cock again, his tongue sliding against the head as his lips wrap around it. There’s something mesmerizing about watching it disappear into Lance’s mouth, how Lance hums around it while his eyes slowly close. Keith blinks, momentarily dazed when Lance hollows out his cheeks and sucks briefly, as if testing the waters. 

Instinctively, Keith’s hand moves from the wall to the top of Lance’s head, fingers carding through brown hair. It’s as silky as Keith thought it would be, and he finds himself subconsciously tugging on it as Lance starts to bob his head up and down. Slowly, just like everything else he’s done. It’s torture, almost, and it makes Keith’s skin heat up from his toes to the tips of his ears because he _likes_ it. He likes it a _lot._

“Lance.” 

The name falls, broken neatly in half, past his lips. His toes curl in his shoes and he swears he could sing the blue paladin’s praises all the way to the heavens, because he’s not even sure he’s in his own body anymore. Where had Lance even learned to do something like this? His mouth is so warm, so wet, and it works over him tirelessly. His hands don’t stop, either; his other hand, unoccupied, travels up and under the bottom of Keith’s shirt. The skin there is soft and riddled with goosebumps. Keith shudders a little more when Lance removes his mouth from his cock— his teeth just barely grazing against the head of it in a move that Keith _knows_ is to assert some sort of dominance— and goes from touching his balls to wrapping his hand around his shaft, slick with saliva. He slides it up. Down. Up. His thumb plays with the sensitive head teasingly. 

Lance takes a couple deep breaths, his own lips covered in saliva. His teeth, white even in the dim light of the room, flash up at Keith as he grins. Keith wants to ask him why he stopped, what made him suddenly decide to torture him, but that grin makes all words die in his throat. God, that _grin._ There’s something beyond his arousal, now, a wave of affection that reminds him of how stupidly in love with Lance he is, and somehow it makes the situation all the sweeter. 

“Feel good?” Lance asks. His voice tells Keith that he already knows the answer, so he nods. 

Lance tugs at the top of Keith’s pants until they’re halfway down his thighs. His hand doesn’t stop working over his cock as he puts his lips to the inside of his thigh, licking a little at the soft skin before he takes it into his mouth and sucks softly. 

Keith curses aloud, his vision going blurry for a split second. He doesn’t even question Lance’s prerogative because he sees the sly glimmer of satisfaction when Lance pulls back, appraising the blossoming burgundy mark that he sucked into Keith’s skin just inches from his cock. 

“Did you have to do that?” Keith grits out, a little worried at the state of his self control. 

“Yeah.” Lance licks at the spot experimentally, just to see Keith’s cock twitch. His eyes are mischievous, catlike, and if Keith could properly asses the situation, he might’ve been winded by the rawness of his expression. 

But instead his mind is fuzzy and his throat feels dry as Lance goes back to servicing him, sliding his hand up and down languidly. Keith never took Lance as someone particularly merciless, but the way he has him teetering on the edge of bliss makes him feel like there could be room for error in his judgement. The slow sound of Lance’s saliva sliding under his soft palm fills the room, competing with Keith’s own jagged breathing to infiltrate his eardrums. Lance seems to instinctively know what that breathing pattern means, because his hand speeds up just a bit. 

“Hey,” he says. He licks at the slit in Keith’s cock for emphasis, as if he needs more incentive to glance down at him. “Look at me.”

Keith swallows; he’d underestimated how hard it would be to actually _maintain_ eye contact with Lance working his cock like this. And when he goes back to sliding it in his mouth, Keith fights tooth and nail to keep their gazes connected, though he falls prey to the distraction of drool leaking past the corner of Lance’s lips as he takes in as much as he can. He winces slightly when Keith’s hips buck of their own accord, forcing the tip of his cock down farther than expected, but Lance is nothing if not adaptable. He adjusts as much as he possibly can, using his saliva-coated hand to grip what he can’t fit into his mouth. 

Maybe it’s the intensity of Keith’s first time receiving oral sex, or maybe it’s just how eager Lance looks when he’s on his knees for him, but when Lance makes a pleased humming noise that vibrates in his entire mouth, Keith finishes with a surprised groan. His grip in Lance’s hair turns almost painful and he battles to keep his hips in place as his expression contorts into something that Lance only dreamed of getting to see. He cages his lip in his teeth in a half-assed attempt to stop the almost pitiful sounds that escape him. 

Lance continues to suck on him until Keith feels like he’s trying to pull his soul out of him, swallowing what he can of Keith’s come. Some of it, like his saliva, leaks past his lips. When Lance finally pulls back, his tongue darts out to lick it back up. His eyes remain on Keith’s. 

“So.” He says, tone airy. Keith almost wants to kick him for sounding so unaffected when he himself feels like he’s about to crumple onto the floor. “How was it?”

“Oh my god.” Keith mutters. “I’m… I can’t…”

“Good, huh?” A certain spark flares to life in Lance’s eyes, one that Keith recognizes as stemming from a job well done. “Not bad for my first time, by the looks of it.”

“Your…” Keith tries in vain to steady his breathing. “That was the first time you ever—”

“Well, yeah.” Lance’s eyebrows furrow just a tad as he gets to his feet. “I thought that was obvious.”

“No, not really.” Keith says. Lance’s mouth tilts upwards, his expression pleased. With their faces a little closer, Keith can fully admire the gleam of saliva on his lips and chin. 

“That’s a shame. I was hoping I’d have an excuse to practice some more.” 

Keith almost chokes on air at the intent behind Lance’s words. He tries his best to maintain a collected aura, but it’s slightly difficult to do with his cock still spent and hanging between the two of them. 

“Who says you don’t need practice?” He manages, his thoughts finally starting to sharpen. Lance shrugs. 

“In that case, then…” He starts, tilting his head a little to the side, “what are you doing for the rest of the night?”


End file.
